


family matters

by brunchandtedium



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Drabble Collection, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Gen, Multi, Slice of Life, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunchandtedium/pseuds/brunchandtedium
Summary: The life of an intergalactic criminal isn't all glitz and glamor. Between the thefts and the murders and the high-speed chases, there's the quiet moments, spent with the people you're slowly starting to consider family.(A collection of 100-word drabbles regarding the day-to-day life of theCarte Blancheand her crew.)
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko & Vespa Ilkay & Peter Nureyev & Rita & Jet Sikuliaq & Juno Steel, Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 21
Kudos: 40





	1. Tattoos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't ever written a drabble: go write a drabble. They're fun, and they're a nice little boost to make you feel accomplished when life gets in the way and you can't work on your full-length WIPs (as is my current situation). Would recommend.
> 
> Will I actually write fifty of these? Not sure. But it'd be a fun little challenge, wouldn't it?

“Got ‘em years ago, in the army,” Vespa says. “They’re names of my heroes. People I want to be like.” 

Rita surveys the faded words inked across Vespa’s biceps, in various languages: Solar, Rangian, Mandarin, Trappist…

Then one catches her eye; she points to a line of Cyrillic. “What’s this say?” 

Vespa hums. “Peter Nureyev. Where I’m from, he’s a living legend. Always wanted to meet the guy—”

Ransom pokes his head out of the kitchen, floor wet and sudsy behind him. “Apologies, ladies. It appears I’ve broken the dishwasher. Again.”

Vespa’s on her feet, snarling. “Ransom, you incompetent _dumbfuck_!”


	2. The Proposal

There are six lockboxes underneath the _Carte Blanche_ ’s bathroom counter: one per crewmate. Inside Buddy’s, among other things, is a ring. 

Buddy’s bedtime routine takes eleven minutes. A five-minute shower, five minutes more for brushing her teeth, applying her scar cream.

Then she takes out the ring. She doesn’t get down on one knee — that’d be hell on her old joints — but she stands before the mirror, whispers _will you marry me_?

Buddy’s always been a good speaker. But these are the most important words she’ll ever say; when Vespa hears them, they’ve got to be _perfect_. So she practices.


	3. Car Dads

Day 11 of a custody battle over a sentient automobile looks something like this:

The ship’s conference room, 3:48 am. A tabletop covered with notes, half-written schedules, energy drinks, mugs of tea. Three chairs — one empty (Buddy resigned as arbitrator days ago), the others occupied by two irate thieves. 

“Absolutely not. You get one hour with Ruby when we refuel on Ganymede. That is final.”

“Come on, Jet. Without me, she’d still be in Engstrom’s grubby mitts. Two hours?”

A pause. “Fine. I concede.”

“Thank Christ.” Peter crosses off an item on their whiteboard, moves to the next.


	4. The Jacket

“Hey, Rita, you seen my spare coat anywhere?” Juno yells from the hallway.

“Nah, Mistah Steel, I ain’t got a clue what you’re talkin’ about!” There’s grumbling, then retreating footsteps. 

Once he’s gone, Rita crawls under her bunk, drags out the heavy box underneath.

Its contents: a peacoat that smells of cologne; a hoodie adorned with the twin serpents of a medic’s patch; a brown jacket for a tall, wide man; a glitzy blazer, slightly stained from an ice-cream date, and— oh, _there_ it is. 

Rita wraps the pilfered trenchcoat around herself like a blanket and returns to her coding.


	5. Reconciliation

Jet’s in his cabin, stewing, when there’s a knock at the door.

He answers it, and there’s Juno. At least the lady has the decency to look abashed. He knows what he did. 

“Hey, big guy, look- I just wanted to say- y’know, um.” Eventually, he settles on, “I’m sorry, okay? Here,” pushing a lumpy bundle of _something_ into Jet’s hands and slinking off down the hall.

There’s a thermos of decaffeinated tea. Heavy-duty earplugs. And a note, scribbled on a takeout menu.

_Sorry Ransom and I kept you up last night. We’ll use the other room next time. J._


End file.
